


there in his nest

by Ast



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Anal Sex, Cuckolding, Incest, M/M, Netorare, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ast/pseuds/Ast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an untimely return from Earth, Yuuri discovers that Wolfram has gone elsewhere for the things he never gave him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there in his nest

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this is a fill to the long-since defunct KKM kink meme. I just forgot about it for years.

From what Yuuri could deduct, it must have been around the midday hour when he opened his eyes and found that he was lying on his back in a puddle by a bucket in the hallway by his royal bedroom. There were no sign of human life, which likely meant that lunch was being served in the kitchens and the offices a floor below him. Yuuri supposed it was just as well; he had gotten pitifully used to showing up in undignified places whenever he travelled from Earth, but he had never felt at ease with other people watching him walk around soaked to the bone. 

He lifted himself by his elbows and made a face as the movement was protested by the fabric sticking to every covered inch of his skin. At least the next change of clothes was less than twenty steps away. 

He was just buttoning up his crisp, dry shirt when the bedroom door opened, and two pairs of easily recognised footfalls entered. Even though Yuuri couldn't see them from behind the folding screen, his ears could easy discern Wolfram's agitated movements and Conrad's calm and moderate steps. Both were unusually silent, and Yuuri was about to step out and greet them when the door closed, and Conrad spoke.

"Are you certain this would be the best place for it?"

"The maids are the only ones who come in here when Yuuri is away, and they're done for today. There won't be anyone coming in here," said Wolfram in a low tone that Yuuri didn't often hear from him.

"I'm sure his Majesty is due back anytime now," said Conrad. When Wolfram didn't answer, he continued. "And I'm sure that if you just stay patient, he'll come to understand - "

"Patient?!" Wolfram exclaimed, " _patient_? I've gone three years without out of duty to that stupid wimp! You do that, and then come and tell me about _patience_!"

Yuuri wanted to ask what it was that Wolfram was going without, but experience told him that now was not the time to draw attention to himself. The safe course would be to wait it out until his fiancé had calmed down and would be happy to see him, not ready to punish him for sins that he had no idea he had even commited.

There were three steps and then a rustle of clothes, and Conrad speaking quietly. "And yet there is nothing to be done about that, unless you are ready to be unfaithful to his Majesty."

"I would never," said Wolfram, "I would never cheat on Yuuri, even if he is an insensitive, frigid moron."

And then there was silence, and Yuuri wondered what he had done to make Wolfram so sad until he realized that it wasn't so silent after all. There was the sound of bodies moving and of something moist meeting and parting, and even Yuuri's eighteen years of being unkissed had seen enough films to recognise that sound. 

He peeked around the edge of the folding screen, and found that it wasn't just his imagination running horribly wild. Wolfram and Conrad were in the middle of his bedroom floor, and he was willing to bet that there was tongue involved. Wolfram was standing on his toes as his arms were anchored around Conrad's neck, and Conrad was cradling his brother's - _his little brother's!_ \- head with one hand. The other was firmly planted on Wolfram's butt. 

Wolfram was red as he pulled away from Conrad's mouth. "At least with you, it's not cheating," he said before leaning in to kiss him again. Conrad pulled him closer by his waist, and Yuuri wondered what kind of messed-up rule it was that said that making out with your blood kin did not constitute cheating on your fiancé. Or for that matter, where making out with your blood kin was any sort of "okay" outside of those perverted books that he knew were hidden somewhere in the castle library. Conrad was moaning into Wolfram's mouth, and Yuuri wondered if this was how it felt to watch your parents have sex. 

"Let's get on the bed," said Wolfram, and Yuuri realised that he never again would be entirely sane. He ducked back behind the folding screen and desperately tried not to hear the sound of boots being dropped to the floor and the rustle of sheets, or the kissing that was getting more and more vocal. He no longer wondered what it was that Wolfram had gone without ever since their engagement, and he wondered what was worse: that he was overhearing the warm-up to gay sex, that it as gay sex happening between two brothers, or that it was gay sex between his godfather and his fiancé that was about to take place on his own bed. He had never seen either of them give any kind of romantic attention to anyone - well, himself not included - and had lived in the perhaps naive ignorance that what wasn't mention, did not exist. How the hell was he supposed to know that Wolfram even had a sex drive? For all that he slept in Yuuri's bed without being asked, he had never tried any sort of deviant things on him.

Things had apparently heated up while he was agonising behind the folding screen, for his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Wolfram softly whimpering in tune to a steady rustle of fabric. Yuuri _did not want_ to know what was going on, but then Wolfram took on a needier tune, and the whimpering got a name.

"Ah, ah, Conrart, ah."

When he looked again, Wolfram was on his back - on Yuuri's side of the bed! - and Conrad's face was hidden against his chest, where both his uniform jacket and his shirt had been unbuttoned. Wolfram's cravat was resting on Conrad's hair, and Conrad's hand was moving between Wolfram's legs. 

"Oh, Conrart," said Wolfram. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was so full of _something_ that hit Yuuri so hard that he could almost physically feel it. Hardly ever had he heard Wolfram's voice sound so open and vulnerable, and never so thick with longing, with an edge of something heavier, something dark. He found himself wondering if it was his fault that Wolfram sounded like that, and then, he suddenly wondered what it would be like to have Wolfram say _his_ name like that. And what it felt like to touch another guy's private parts. And that was when he realized that his pants were tighter than they should be around his own private parts, and the whole situation took another disturbing turn while Conrad moved his hand to lean more comfortably over his brother while he gave him another one of those kisses, completely oblivious to the fact that his king and godson was having crisis at the other end of the room. 

By the time Yuuri had gotten his breathing under control, Wolfram's uniform jacket and cravat were on the floor, and Wolfram had moved down to bury his face in Conrad's crotch. Conrad was on his side with his eyes closed, and he was gently stroking Wolfram's hair while Wolfram was making muffled, indecent noises. Of all the things that Yuuri hated about his life at that moment, those noises were the worst. His imagination eagerly conjured up images of what exactly it was that was blocking the noises in Wolfram's mouth, and Yuuri hated how it suddenly hurt for all the wrong reasons that it was Conrad's, and not _his_. He hated what was happening; he felt so very betrayed by Conrad, that _Conrad_ would be the one to do something like that to him, and then he remembered the short conversation from before and how it was his own fault for not realizing it sooner, so that Wolfram wouldn't have had to go to, well, to his own brother for this. He briefly thought about how he wasn't even supposed to like guys, but that became incredibly insignificant against the two truths that Yuuri had learned during the last ten minutes: that Wolfram was having sex with his brother, and that Yuuri wished that Wolfram was having sex with him instead. 

Conrad whispered something, and Wolfram moved back and sat up, letting Yuuri catch a glimpse of Conrad's cock. It was full and thick, wet from Wolfram's mouth, arching in a proud testament to Conrad's desire. Yuuri's stomach twisted; it felt so wrong to see Conrad like this. 

The sight lasted only a lingering second before the two curled up around each other to kiss and caress and writhe on the sheets of the king's bed. The last of their uniforms were dropped to the floor, and Wolfram was beautiful and naked in the sunlight, and Conrad was large and gentle as turned his brother over to lie on his stomach, and dipped two fingers into a jar on the bedside table. He slid them between Wolfram's buttocks in long strokes, and Yuuri turned away and slowly sat down to his knees. He didn't know much about gay sex, but it didn't take much to guess what was coming next. The only sound he heard was Wolfram's heavy breathing, and Yuuri tried to use the silence for what it was worth. He should think of something hapy, something nice, something that wasn't the wrongness of what was happening across the room and the sick aching of his heart. How was he ever going to look them both in the eye again?

He didn't know how much time passed, but he was eventually startled out of his sullen thoughts by Wolfram uttering a sharp moan. Yuuri found himself looking before he even had the time to think twice about it. Conrad was lying on top of Wolfram, kissing the back of his neck. He couldn't see much of Wolfram from where he was, but his breathing was shallow and his toes were twitching. After a minute, Conrad stared moving his hips minutely up and down. Wolfram answered with small, needy sighs. There was a wet spot in Yuuri's underwear.

"I need it harder."

"Of course," said Conrad, as if having sex with his little brother was just another everyday matter. He pulled back and Yuuri got another excellent view of his cock while Wolfram got to his knees. He didn't even cast a look at Conrad, and Conrad said nothing more as he took himself in his hand and slipped inside Wolfram in what looked like an impossibly smooth motion. 

There was more force in his thrusts now, and it was clearly having an effect; Wolfram was moaning in earnest, loud exhalations punctuated by his brother's name and pleas to give him more. Every sound out of him was like an accusation leveled at Yuuri, the things that Yuuri hadn't given him, the things that Yuuri couldn't give him, the things that Conrad had taken for himself. Conrad's touch was sure and skilled, never hesitant or fumbling. He was a man who had done this before, and judging from Wolfram's grateful participation, his bedroom skills must have been on par with those on the battlefield. Even if Yuuri would try giving Wolfram what Wolfram wanted, he now knew what the comparison would be. Wolfram would be sorely disappointed by his fumbling, by clumsiness, cluelessness. Yuuri didn't know how and when to touch, what the right order of things would be, who was supposed to do what. He couldn't have taken Wolfram to bed with hardly a word like Conrad had done right before his eyes.

On the bed, Wolfram fell forward to rest on one elbow while his free hand started working between his legs. THAT motion, if nothing else, was a simple and familiar one, and oh, it shouldn't be comforting to know that Wolfram at least was a normal guy in _that_ regard, because wasn't that why this whole terrible thing was happening, anyway? No way would someone who slept like Wolfram wake up in the middle of the night to jack off. Sure, he'd probably done like Yuuri, stolen minutes alone in the bath or at the loo, but it was becoming increasingly obvious why that wouldn't satisfy. Yuuri's right hand had never made him make sounds like Wolfram was strangling into a pillow in the rhytm of Conrad's hips. 

It went on for a little while, until Wolfram let go of his cock and tried pushing himself up again. "Wait, hold up," he heaved, and pressed his forehead against his folded elbows. In the sudden stillness, it was obvious how his lungs were working. 

"Is it okay?" Conrad asked softly, his hands having softened their grip on Wolfram's hips to run along his thighs and back. 

It took Wolfram a few heavy swallows of air to answer. "I'm about to..." he said. 

"I see," said Conrad, and pulled out of Wolfram with a soft, wet sound that burned in Yuuri's head. He pulled up a white shirt from the floor that could have belonged to either of them, and put it down on the bed beside Wolfram's head. On the way back, his hand strayed to Wolfram's crotch to pull lazily on his cock. Wolfram sighed, and his hips moved softly in response. "Do you want to rest for a bit?"

Wolfram shook his head. "No. Let's just finish this."

"Alright," said Conrad in a voice so soft that it was nearly a whisper, and kissed Wolfram's back as he got back in place. He pushed inside Wolfram with the same ease as before, and continued fucking him at the same rapid pace. Wolfram pulled the shirt down beneath him, and started jerking off again. Conrad's name filled the space of their bedroom, and behind the folding screen, Yuuri pressed his hand against the bulge in his pants and bit back his despair. But he couldn't help but stare; he could as well have stepped out fully for all that the two on the bed would take notice of anything else than their own pleasure. He saw how Wolfram's hand quickened as his moans took on a different pitch, saw his hips jerk and still as a particularly long and drawn-out moan dribbled from his mouth, and then his body slumped and Conrad came to rest, but still in the same position, still with his cock inside Wolfram's ass. 

Conrad caressed Wolfram as he came down from his orgasm. His face was still hidden by the pillow, but the hand that had been jerking off fell to the shirt and clutched at it before pulling away. Conrad leaned on one arm to lean forward and whisper into Wolfram's ear, while his free hand stroked his belly. After a moment, he straightened out to graps Wolfram's hips once more. He pulled Wolfram down a little deeper, and then he started working in quick, shallow strokes while he panted audibly. Wolfram remained limp beneath him, and his body was jostled from the force of Conrad's thrusts. 

Even Yuuri, virgin that he was, could recognise the ending that was nearing; it didn't even last for a minute before Conrad suddenly gave a loud moan and stopped moving, his crotch pressed tight against Wolfram's ass while every muscle in his body stood taut in pleasure. 

It was very silent afterwards. Conrad pulled out, and his legs weren't entirely steady as he stepped down to sit by Wolfram's side and stroke his hair without a word. Yuuri had never doubted that Conrad loved Wolfram, but he had never seen it so clearly as that moment. Conrad's face was uncharacteristically open and vulnerable as he pulled at short, blond strands and let the slide between his fingers. 

"Don't go to sleep here, Wolfram."

"I'm not," was replied, muffled by Yuuri's pillow. Conrad was silent for a few more seconds, before he sighed, and his hand left Wolfram's hair to run his knuckles against Wolfram's spine. 

"Come, now. Can you walk?"

"You aren't _that_ great a beast," Wolfram grouched, pushing himself up and climbing out of bed. He made a face, and then he sighed in familiar exasperation. 

"I'm sorry."

"It's no big matter. I just need to wash it out." Wolfram sounded tired, and his shoulders were slumping as he made his way towards the Demon King's personal washroom. Yuuri shuddered at a thin trail of liquid running down the inside of his leg.

Conrad stared after him for a minute, before he wiped his cock with same shirt that Wolfram had dirted. He dressed carefully - the shirt must have been Wolfram's, then - and straightened the sheets on Yuuri's bed. It looked untouched when Wolfram returned, stopping by the closet to pull out a clean shirt on the way. 

"Has Brother decided what to do about the men from his own troops?"

Conrad helped Wolfram into the shirt, and buttoned it up while he answered. "I haven't asked, but I'm guessing he's planning to use them to bolster the elite guard. I fear it might take some time before they're familiar with the routines of the castle, but they would prove a valuable asset in battle." 

Wolfram lifted a foot and Conrad slid on a white stocking with a practiced motion before picking up the other. 

"I don't understand why he just doesn't get Gegenhuber to train them," said Wolfram and stepped into this pants, which where swiftly lifted and buttoned.

"He was always the kind of noble officer - like Adalbert, too - never trained at the academy, used to a different style of fighting. None of them are very experienced in battle involving entire armies." When Wolfram had pulled on his uniform coat, Conrad reached up to fasten the belt around his waist. 

"Officers have other duties," said Wolfram sharply, and Conrad nodded sagely as he picked up a boot, and then laced it after Wolfram stepped into it. 

"Of course. But common soldiers need training for the kind of fighting they will need to be doing. Here, with His Majesty, there's Gunther and I, who both have experience instructing others." He finally stood up, a head taller than his brother. All traces of their copulation was gone, except for the soiled shirt; they were back to their normal selves, but somehow looked nothing like it. There was a softness to their features that hadn't been there before, and Yuuri felt another pang of something deeply troubling when Conrad brushed a thumb against Wolfram's cheek. 

"His Majesty will come around soon, Wolfram. You'll see."

Wolfram's reply was to bury his face against Conrad's chest and wind his arms around his back. Conrad went back to stroking his hair.

Yuuri couldn't tell how long they stood like that; it felt like it was an eternity before the faint notes of a bugle could be heard through the tall windows of his bedroom, and the brothers stirred and pulled apart.

"It'll be fine," said Conrad, and then he kissed Wolfram softly and briefly before he strode out the door.

Wolfram remained in the same spot for a minute more, before his fists clenched and his face darkened. He strode over the glare at the bed, as if it had personally insulted his entire extended family. 

"Asshole!" he bellowed, and then he gave another wordless shout and kicked the sturdy bedframe. 

He slammed the door behind him as he left, and Yuuri finally slumped down behind the folding screen, daring to breathe and discovering that he was heaving. He pressed a hand against his mouth to muffle the noises, and discovered that his face was wet. When had he started crying? He got his breathing under control, but felt a new wave of hot tears well up in his eyes, and did nothing to stop them as they ran down his face in fat, burning trails. He was a mess, pulled between anger and shame and guilt and a deep, cutting _longing_ for something that he hadn't longed for not even an hour ago. Wolfram wouldn't have gone far, would be found around the castle somewhere, but Yuuri couldn't go and find him, not like this. Not now that he knew what Wolfram was doing with Conrad, not when he knew how _he_ wanted Wolfram, not when he knew how Conrad could look at Wolfram and how Wolfram let Conrad touch him when he was alone. 

He had been betrayed by the two people who he had thought he could trust the most, but it was a betrayal that he had been all but asked for - and one that he couldn't fix. He could never get as good as Conrad, and he wouldn't even know where to begin _trying_ to be like him - and so, he could never take that place in Wolfram's life, no matter how much he felt his cock stirring again just remember the tight pull of Wolfram's well-shaped thighs. 

He wiped his tears, though new were still coming as he climbed to his feet and went into the washroom. Getting rid of a sticky underwear suddenly didn't feel like much of a problem at all, compared to solving the heartache that had suddenly hijacked his life.


End file.
